Her Ascendance

by orphan_account

Summary:

A very ambitious slugcat decides to bring Looks to the Moon to Five Pebbles for maximum neuron trip efficiency.

It's probably not a good idea.

Notes:

Aaand here we go

I have written outlines for all the chapters, but we shall see at what pace I'll be able to actually write them :D

Chapter 1

Looks to the Moon felt like she should have remembered something when she first saw the creature wandering about her corpse.

She stared. It stared back, its eyes as big and black as hers were.  She doubted that was the resemblance she was thinking of, however. A slimy little thing it was, though calling it little might have been hypocritical; in her current state, she wasn’t much bigger now was she? And much unlike her, this creature had the freedom to move about. Not that she could fully grasp the joy of trekking through a world as broken as this one. But, an animal it was, and so it fought for its survival.

She greeted it. It continued to stare. Of course, it wouldn’t understand. Or if it did, it had no means of responding.

Her neurons floated in the air lazily, not much in terms of entertainment or company, and barely functional as a means of data storage. She supposed having a creature other than herself around was a nice change of pace.

Or so she thought, before the creature jumped in the stretch of water between them, jumped out, and pushed its wet face against her. Her umbilical pressed against her back painfully as she was knocked back.

“Please stop it!” she called out. But still, the creature either didn’t understand her distress or didn’t care, as it climbed over her, knocking into her neurons in a way that made her head spin. And then, it landed straight on her umbilical. The rusting metal scraped against the wall with a ear-shattering screech. Moon was knocked into the water as it yanked her back, her loose wires retracting angrily as she was plunged underwater. Not that this was something she wasn’t used to, but the creature was still there, clinging onto the metal, trying to scramble out of the water. Moon’s vision filled with white for a moment as one of the few wires still connecting her to her lifeline broke under the tension.

She raised her arms to try to grab something, anything, to pull herself out of the water. It wasn’t like she would run out of the oxygen, not with her neurons supplying her with all she needed, but the way her exposed wires were squished under her body, the way the umbilical still screamed with the effort to pull her back up, something that it hadn’t been able to do for who knows how long… She wanted out. She had to get out. She wasn’t sure which way was up.

Her right hand made contact with something, and she grasped at it. Her hand wouldn’t close properly, and she could hardly pull herself out, but now that she had located the ground again, she could orient herself, she could…

The umbilical straightened itself suddenly, shoving her out of the water. She slid across the garbage, stomach to the ground.

If she had nerves, they were all aflame. Almost like when…. No, she couldn’t quite remember. Perhaps that was for the best. She couldn’t imagine that anything causing such agony would be a very nice memory.

She still couldn’t see, not with her face pressed against the heap of trash that had once been a part of her.

Once the pain subsided, she finally pushed herself up, only to find herself facing the same creature from before. It was holding something…

No.

“Do not eat it!” Moon yelled. She doubted that the creature understood, but it must have heard her, at least, because it dropped the neuron in alarm.

“Go! Just… please go. You’ve done enough already. Please leave me be.”

When the creature just stared, she tried clarifying her message by making shooing motions with her arms, and then giving it a little push towards where it came from.

The umbilical made a snapping sound, yanking at her again. She flinched with a shout, and curled into herself. The creature flinched back as well. For a moment Moon thought it might leap at her again, but instead, it crawled back into the water, looking back at her with those big, shiny eyes. Then it swam away, and just like that, the intruder was gone.

If only she could survey the damage. But when she tried to turn her head, the ache worsened. She sighed, holding onto one of her neurons, feeling it pulse under her fingers.

“Good riddance,” she murmured, though she couldn't pack any punch into it. Perhaps she could bring herself to hate that creature once the pain was manageable enough to let her think clearly. She had endless time to learn to manage it, after all.

Or so she thought.

That night, when she drowned, the umbilical tore from her back.

Chapter 2

Haven’t seen you in the chat for a while, nice to see you! You’ve been hard at work I’m sure, I read your latest attempt. It was impressive.

I don’t need empty compliments. It didn’t work.

Don’t be so prickly, Pebs. Your big sis was trying to be nice.

There’s no need for that. Five Pebbles, you can hardly expect to succeed on the first try. I think it would be a little insulting actually, with for how long us others have been trying!

Yeah honestly if out of everyone it was our antisocial little brother haha

I will make another attempt.

That’s the spirit! Just don’t disappear on us this time.

...

 

 

The water stilled. Looks to the Moon wasn’t sure how long had passed, but finally, her limp body was no longer being tossed around this way and that.

Distantly, she wondered how her neurons could take this abuse each cycle.

She wondered how she could continue to take it.

But for now, it was over. It was time to get out. Which might have been easier said than done.

She could see the floor of what used to be her general systems bus through the muddy water, so the water must not be that deep. That being said, she had no clue how to get out. She wasn’t in her chamber anymore, the trusty island of garbage somewhere unreachable.

She found that she floated, at least. Some part of her made her less dense than water… What part that was, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t relevant. She tried lifting her head out of the water, but it made her body topple forward and plunge her face underwater again. That was… unusual. That never used to happen.

She kicked with her foot experimentally, and found herself moving forward, just a little. The movement was strange, floaty; akin to something she could almost remember. But that wasn’t important right now, either. She had to get out the water.

She kicked her feet again. If she kept moving like this, however slowly, she would eventually find something solid, right? But her legs began to ache. Could it be damage? She could just about see her legs from how her face was oriented right now, and they looked normal enough, if a little scathed from hitting the walls during the rain cycle. Nothing new. Nothing bad enough that it should be causing this much pain. Still, her legs wouldn’t move anymore.

She had never learned how to swim. That was never supposed to be necessary. As long as there was a surplus of water, she would have been able to go on, self-repairing when she had to. There should never have been a situation in which there was an excess. Yet here she was, trying to see if the little pieces of her data told her anything of swimming. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing stored in her neurons. She had thrown away data much more precious than that in her attempts to save what was essential. If she still had that, then it was compressed, and she couldn't begun to go through all of that data.

So was this it, then? Was she doomed to float in the water, waiting for the rain to start again? Perhaps next cycle she would end up on something solid, to let her reorient herself.

No.

No, even if she had never been made for a situation like this, her genome had still been derived from something living, if a long time ago. Even if she couldn’t be considered an animal by any definition of the word, maybe, just maybe, an instinct for movement would remain there, unused for so long. All the other beings could do it. She had never really used her legs before, supported by her umbilical… But maybe, just maybe. If she tried hard enough.

She raised her arm, feeling how the water responded, how her body tilted in response to the change in balance. She brought it to the surface, and then…

She brought it back down, as quickly as she could manage.

The water resisted being moved. Her body ached again. But, it moved her forward, if just a little bit. Encouraged, she did the same with her other am, and kicked her feet again. Sometimes she moved backwards instead of forwards. Sometimes the limbs were too weak to move altogether, and she had to wait. But, slowly but surely, she felt herself glide through the water.

Her hand made contact with something solid. She felt around it, before flattening her palm against the smooth surface to move herself along. The pain returned, But she was so close. She became suddenly very aware of how she didn’t have a mouth. That was nothing new, either. She had never had one. Never had it felt so suffocating.

She couldn’t breathe.

I don’t need it. The neurons will breathe for me.

It felt like it took an eternity, but her head was finally out of water, her limbs weakly dragging her across the slick metal. Her body was so heavy, it took a moment before she could even think of trying to sit up. When she did, her arms felt like they were on fire. But finally, she could look around.

The general systems bus was in shambles.

That was about as much as she could piece together before the rain came again.

Chapter 3

It wasn’t all bad. If one could ignore how the drowning was even more painful than it had been before, it was at the very least nice to see more of her can than just the same room. One could call it refreshing. Seeing an area previously uninhabitable by anything living other than herself (if she even counted as alive) now blooming with algae and moss, and being a safe haven for many an aquatic creature, she thought she would have found beautiful if it was not her own carcass they were feasting upon. She shoved that thought to the back of her mind. It was rather easy with how little processing power she had these days.

Her neurons would follow her, ever loyal, to wherever she ended up each cycle. Some cycles, she wasn’t even able to get out of the water, the walls too high to climb. Other times, she would end up beached, and didn’t have to go through the struggle at all. She considered trying to climb higher. But, her body was much heavier out of water, she found. And so she made no effort to reach a peculiar yellow pearl that was firmly lodged between some rubble, close to the ceiling.

She had not expected to see anything sentient other than herself. Which was why she startled upon seeing something yellow pop out of the ground at the corner of her vision. She turned her head so fast that it hurt; though the cycles had dulled the ache where she had separated from her umbilical, sudden movements still aggravated it.

She had thought that some creature outside that was more threatening than the jellyfish had made it in. But instead, she found herself staring back at a rather familiar figure. It was one of her overseers.

“Hello there,” she said. Her voice came out warped, stuttering. She ignored it for now; not that she could likely do much about that. “I never expected to see another one of you!”

The overseer sunk into the ground and leapt back up again, it’s worm-like body undulating. Right. They could hardly communicate now.

“I wonder if more of you survived, or if you’re the only one?” Looks to the Moon mused. “What else have I missed?”

The overseer paused, and then started projecting… an image? Though it was hard to make out. Moon must have not been the only one damaged by the severance. She reached up to rub any mist and grime from the surface of her eyes and then leaned towards the projection.

She thought that she could see… an ocean? That made sense to her. There would likely be even more water in the area now that she wasn’t using up any. And it seemed that her little brother had given up whatever it was he had been doing.

She thought of asking about him.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to know either way. Besides, it’s not like the overseer could reach that far. Unless her brother’s can had broken down, there would hardly be anything for it to see.

It was still much further than she herself could move.

When the water tossed her around the next rain cycle, she slammed against a wall particularly hard. The sound would have likely been deafening if the water pouring down wasn’t already so. She couldn’t remember much after that, only coming back to when the water was already down again. Mercifully, she had landed on a metal structure out the water this time. She wasn’t sure she could make the climb out with how damaged she was.

The organic bits of her body were probably breaking down far faster than she could repair them.

Perhaps this was how Sliver of Straw made it out.

Perhaps she would yet ascend.

But for now, the pain was unbearable, and the memory of whoever that was, fleeting. It must have been someone important for her few neurons to have retained that. It was hard to even keep track of the cycles, of whether she had been injured last cycle or the cycle before or an eternity ago.

And yet, even then, the neurons remembered to fill her with dread upon seeing a familiar white creature enter the can.

Notes:

Comments are always appreciated, even if I can't find the time to reply! :D

Chapter 4

As your senior, I must request that you stop sending those in the main group.

There you go, Sig. You made Moon mad.

Ooooh haha I meant nothing of it! Just for a little laugh, you know.

I agree with Looks to the Moon.

Look who makes an entrance lol

I don’t appreciate being pinged with that filth when I’m trying to work.

It does make you think, though. Doesn’t it?

Five Pebbles, nice to see you as always. Wind, could you elaborate?

We weren’t built to be able to have contact with one another- I mean, any sort of physical contact at all. We are hardly even able to meet.

Well duh. Not unless we teach our cans to walk!

I just wonder, how it would be to meet one of you in person. Sorry if this comes off as too sentimental.

Well, if I was able to meet you, I would give you all a big hug from your big sis.

Aww Moon!

We weren’t built for “hugs”. We were built to search for a solution to the Great Problem. Frankly, I have no interest in partaking in any such animal behaviour.

So you wouldn’t hug Moon back? That’s cold, Pebbles.

Leave him be; he doesn’t have to hug me if he doesn't want to. But to answer your question, Grey Wind, I would be lying if I said I had never considered it.

That's what I thought!

Haha always happy to rouse insightful conversation!

Do NOT take that as encouragement to send those particular files again.

...

 

 

 

Some instinct told Moon to freeze, though she knew she had been spotted. There was no hiding from the white creature, not when her limbs would barely obey her. There was no running when it hopped down into the water and climbed back out to face her, its little paws slipping on the damp metal and still moving with more grace than Moon could ever manage in her current state. And then, it stopped. Didn’t advance, didn’t flee, just stared.

Moon thought she could notice a difference, but it took her a while to pinpoint what that was. The creature didn’t quite… feel like just another animal anymore. She thought she could see concern in its glistening eyes – could she have imagined that? Was it because of her state? She was certainly not in the best shape.

Whose fault is that, she thought. But the anger that flared up was minute; she could hardly blame the little creature for having broken her umbilical. It wasn’t like it could have been repaired, regardless, and the creature had likely not broken it intentionally. 

“Hello, little creature,” she tried. Her voice was still a warbled mess, but the creature perked up. It understood her?

“So you’re back, then. I wonder why. There is nothing for you here.”

The creature lay on its stomach, its eyes still fixated on her. That was… some kind of a response. So it really was different, then.

“I see that someone has given you the gift of communication. Must have been Five Pebbles, as you don't look like you can travel very far...”

And looking more closely, she could see it; how the creature glowed in the low light of her destroyed general systems bus, how the light shone off the dirty metal. This creature had been to Five Pebbles, and likely consumed some of his biological nervous system. Not that that should matter to him in the same way it would to her. A few neurons here or there, she couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for him. After all, evidently, a few was all one needed to survive.

(Distantly, she wished that the creature had saved some for her. But that was a bit much to ask of an animal.)

(She thought that she could almost recall something…)

She was broken out of her thoughts as the little creature crawled closer to her, and pressed its head to her abdomen. Its face was wet from swimming. But it wasn’t unpleasant, if a little surprising. Moon brought a hand on top of its head and scratched behind its ears experimentally. The creature pressed against her palm. She hummed. The creature stayed like that for a little while, and Moon brought another hand to scratch beneath its chin. It closed its eyes and… vibrated? She thought that maybe she forgave the creature, then and there.

She was brought back to the reality of her present situation as she saw the chambers begin to darken. Clouds were building up in the slivers of the sky that she could see through the places where the can had torn open, leaving its contents exposed to the elements.

“You should go, little creature. The rain is coming.”

The creature stared at her, unmoving.

“I’ll be alright. I can’t truly drown, but you can. Go now.”

It didn’t go. Instead, it latched onto her hand with its little paws, and tugged. Moon almost lost her balance.

“No, I can’t come with you. Please go – I don’t want you to drown!”

The structure was beginning to rumble, the first drops of water landing. And the creature wouldn’t leave, still pulling at her hand. It tugged particularly hard, causing them both to plunge into the water at the bottom of the can. She couldn’t be too mad, she would have ended up in the water soon enough anyways, but the creature was still pulling at her.

It would drown, if she didn’t go with it.

She kicked with her feet, still begging for the little thing to leave her, trying to pry its paws free of her hand with little success. Swimming was a little faster with the creature helping, but still arduously slow.

“Where are you even taking me?” she called out over the sound of the rain beginning to hammer down. The water became violent, throwing her up and down to the point that she was no longer sure if she was even moving forward, before her hands hit a metal pole and the creature finally let go, climbing up ahead of her before looking back down, expectantly. The pole was slick with water and algae, impossible to get a hold of.

“Just go!” she yelled to the creature. The sound of the rain was deafening. She found herself rising up the pole, suddenly, as if weightless. For a brief, ridiculous moment, she wondered if her umbilical was back and to its full functionality. Then she realized it was the quickly rising water boosting her up. The creature leading the way, she scrambled up the pole with the desperation of a dying animal.

The little thing led her into a tunnel. Water was licking at her feet, and though the creature turned back around to pull her along again, moving through the tunnel was awkward, and soon she found herself submerged. She couldn’t tell it to leave anymore. She turned to look at the floor as she crawled. They were going to die. No, it was going to die. She couldn’t, couldn’t…

And then, she wasn’t in the water anymore.

Looking up from the floor, she realized that they had arrived in a little chamber, that was presently closing off with some sort of a loud mechanism. For a moment, she worried for her neurons, but then they appeared beside her, having apparently been following behind all along. She wondered what such a chamber could have been for. If she knew, she couldn’t recall.

The creature was breathing heavily with its eyes shut, shaking from exertion. She felt the need to breathe, too, though she couldn’t – with something akin to relief. The realization set in. For the first time in however long… she wasn’t going to drown.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered, her voice echoing in the tiny space. But the creature wasn’t listening. Instead, it curled up, the space so cramped that its tail pressed against her foot though she was sitting against the opposite wall.

Looks to the Moon listened to the sounds of the rain outside, muffled to the point they almost sounded peaceful, instead of the watery inferno she was so used to. There was really nothing to do with this time. So, she lied down herself, pressing against the creature out of welcome necessity, and looked up at her neurons, illuminating the space alongside the creature. And then, just maybe… she slept.

Chapter 5

Looks to the Moon woke up to the sound of metal. But instead the screeching sound she had been so used to with how her umbilical would strain after each rain cycle, this sounded almost… musical. The creature got up as well, and started jumping around restlessly. Moon was just about to request it to stay still when the seal of the chamber opened, and the creature all but darted out.

“Wait, where are you going?” Moon called after it, peeking out. The creature was jumping up ahead, not even looking back to her.

“Goodbye then, little creature! And thank you!”

Her voice wouldn’t carry very far with the disrepair she was in, she knew. Once the animal was surely out of sight, she crawled back into the cramped space. She would have loved to say proper goodbye. But she supposed that the creature would be rather busy, having to hunt and whatnot. It had already allocated quite a bit of time just to helping her, though she couldn't begin to understand why.

Well, she would no longer have to drown, at least. If she reduced her active processes a bit more, she should be able to stay there, not even having to let her neurons out to feast. It would be the safest option going forward. They could remain here, and it would be fine. She would be fine.

The neurons dimmed as she started shutting down any non-essential processes, leaning back against the wall. This way, she would barely feel the time pass. She could never be truly comfortable, not with having lost most of what made her… well, her, but at the very least she wouldn’t have to fear the rain anymore. At least no rain. At least…

It was almost dark. The white thing wasn’t there to make light, anymore.

She was alone.

Her neurons were there. But they were her. Would the scavengers find her here? She didn’t know.

What was it that she did with her time, in the past?

She thought. And she tried to solve… something.

With the others.

With her parents. For her parents.

And then, with her siblings.

But they weren’t here. They had not been here for a long, long time.

Water wouldn’t get in here.

Nothing would get in here.

Not her parents (they were dead), not her siblings (they might be dead also), not creatures, not rain.

The rain was hardly a friend. The rain was bad. The rain came and the rain killed and hurt. But the rain was always there, and so, the rain was always the same... But because of the rain, everything else was always different. …Stuff… would move. Before rain was never the same as after rain.

It could always be the same here.

The neurons floated only a little. She couldn’t see anything else. She couldn’t move. The walls were too close. It was dark, dark dark.

Somewhere, water dripped, dripped dripped. Many times. So many times. Always the same and never different. Always the same. Drip, drip.

Just her and her and no one else. Drip drip.

Just her and her five white things and the water and the drip drip and no bigger white thing and no siblings and no parents

Come back.

Please don’t leave me alone again.

Please-

There was a face in front of her.

She flinched backwards. Her neck hurt. Her neurons startled awake. A threat? No, no, it was just the creature from before. For how long had it even left for? It must have not been very long at all; she hadn’t heard the rain come. It was still the same cycle.

“You’re back,” she stuttered.

The creature squeezed itself back into the little chamber. It was holding something in its paw… something…

It was a slimy, blue pupa, scratch marks along its surface where the creature must have grabbed it. It was oozing onto the creature’s paw, the paw which was currently holding the pupa towards her.

“Oh, no little creature. I don’t eat that way. I have no mouth to eat with, see?” she pointed at her chin. The creature cocked its head.

“I eat through my neurons. They provide me with all I need,” she explained.

The creature stared at the neurons floating about, before shoving the pupa right at one of them. The neuron was knocked backwards, ever so slightly, and Moon’s head got fuzzy for a moment before clearing again.

“It doesn’t quite work like that. They eat little things, much smaller than either you or I can see!”

She thought the creature looked almost sad, with its glistening eyes, as it resigned to eating the morsel itself. Before she could stop herself, Moon reached for the creature, pulling it flush to her chest. It didn’t protest, just vibrated like it had before, looking up at her. What a strange little thing.

“I know you must have places to go, little creature,” Moon said. “But please, if you would…. Stay for a little bit.”

She let her neurons compress the memory of the creature bouncing on her umbilical. There were more important things to remember. Such as the sound of the rain outside as she curled up next to the glowing creature once more.

Chapter 6

Immediately lower your groundwater consumption to one fifth of the current intake.

Stop whatever it is you are doing.

Please stop!

 

She sent message after message. She could only assume Pebbles was seeing them, but he wouldn’t stop, almost like he wasn’t himself…

Did she know who he was, really?

The slag built up.

She couldn’t feel or see it. But she could feel her processes allocated to her west side shutting down. She ordered the neurons located in those regions to move elsewhere; maybe, if she could lessen the strain on those areas, it would be fine. For a little bit.

 

As your local group senior I order you you you you you you

 

She continued sending messages. Not all of them went through. She doubted any of them went through in their entirety.

The west side went dark. She heard a crash, felt a group of overseers get cut off. The entire can rattled, unbalanced.

Her upper region was going through a similar development.

What had she done to deserve this? To have to be struggling just to survive, her brother not responding – not caring enough to – and her creators as well, no longer here to aid, her and her siblings left to rot and her systems left to crash and burn and it wasn’t fair wasn’t fair why should she have to fix it when it wasn’t her fault

 

stop

 

By the time Five Pebbles responded, it was far too late.

…

 

 

 

 

The next cycle, the little creature was tugging at Looks to the Moon’s hand again. With the same determination as before.

“Please, there is no obligation to bring me along. I’ll slow you down.”

It barely even acknowledged that she had spoken.

“It’ll be difficult for me to return to the shelter, too. What if we don’t make it back in time when the rain comes?”

It still tugged.

Well, it wasn’t like Moon had been looking forward to staying in the chamber by herself again.

The air of her can was damp, water gently dripping on her head as she forced her arms and legs to move her along. The creature stood upright, using its forelimbs to pick up and carry some rubble it found from the ground. Moon tried getting up on her legs as well, took one step forward, and crashed back down, catching her fall with her hands. She decided not to try that again in a little bit.

Moving through what had used to be her body was arduous and slow. The little creature jumped ahead, snatching jellyfish from the water, climbing close to the ceiling to grab some loose piece of rebar. To think that the can had used to be hers. Now she felt like an intruder, like it wanted her to stay out, throwing obstacles her way until her arms and legs ached. Meanwhile, the lower lifeform leading her was moving with shocking precision, each effortless motion of its hind legs bringing it to new heights.

To think that she was supposedly superior to it. In what way?

At least moving in the water was a bit easier. It was still slow, but she was far better adapted to moving in a weightless state, and the water was as close to that as she could currently get.

The creature was making her climb up yet another pole. Concentrating all her strength, she was just barely able to drag herself upwards for a little bit, enough that the creature could grab her shoulders with its hind paws and pull her to the platform. She flopped straight onto it. Meanwhile, the neurons floated beside her effortlessly. She was fully aware that the pang of jealousy she felt towards them was ridiculous. After that ordeal, she was ready to return to the little chamber. But the creature apparently had other things in mind, as it led her to a tunnel… no, that was a pipe. But she supposed that for the creatures’ purposes and hers, it was a tunnel.

She couldn’t see what was at the end of that tunnel, not with the creature crawling ahead of her. Nothing could have possibly prepared her for what she saw next.

The light made her flinch. Everywhere was so bright. There was water as far as eye could see. She had seen slivers of the sky before, from the holes in the ceiling of her can, but though she had logically known there to be more sky out there, it seemed to stretch out endlessly. Like she was inside a data pearl, surrounded by a globe of reflective, bright gray and blue.

For the first time in her life, she was outside.

It felt like she had just started marvelling at the sights (and really, could she ever be done), when the creature interrupted her by tugging at her hand again. Pulling her towards the…

Oh, no.

“I’m not going in the ocean, little creature. We need to get back to safety before rain comes, remember?”

Another tug.

Moon thought she saw something stir beneath the water. She leaned away from the edge.

“I’m not going there.”

And still, the creature tugged.

She didn’t expect to get peer pressured today, but to her surprise, the little overseer she had seen before popped out of the metal. The creature glanced at it but didn’t react otherwise. That was not the reaction a little beast should have to an unfamiliar entity. So they had met before, then.

“Mind talking some sense into it?” Moon asked. The overseer flailed around before beginning to project an image of… something. A… can? Hers? No, this one had far longer legs. And then, a different image… neurons.

“You want to take me to Five Pebbles? For... neurons?

The creature hopped in place.

“That’s impossible! That’s… hopeless. I can’t even see the can from here.”

And yet, the creature had clearly made it there before. He was her closest neighbour, the two sharing the same water supply. But she was hesitant for reasons beyond the undoubtedly difficult journey, with the state she was in. Reasons that she found hard to grasp. Emotions that she found hard to find reasons for.

It would be a long way.

It was no like she had anything better to do, either.

And if there was a chance that she could return some of her processing power, albeit at Five Pebbles’ expense, she was willing to take it.

“Alright, then.”

She allowed herself to be pulled close to the edge. As she stared at the vast waters, the creature slipped back through the pipe. Just as she was about to call for it, it returned, holding a pupa in its paw.

“Ah, are you hungry-?”

The creature hurled the cocoon past her, straight into the water. Moon stared. What was this meant to accomplish?

Just as she finished that thought, something leaped out of the waves, splashing water all the way up to where her and the little creature were. The creature jumped off the platform, latching onto the bigger one (she could only determine that it was some kind of a fish) and disappearing underwater before coming back up. The fish swam back and forth, the little creature looking up at her again, now. Expectantly.

This was probably a terrible idea.

Moon pushed herself off the ledge.

Chapter 7

It was definitely a terrible idea.

Moon was moving faster than she ever had across the water, water splashing her as she barely held onto the fish. One moment her head was underwater, the next, it was above. Her neurons lagged behind, following, but not quite close enough. She felt lightheaded, like she was blinking in and out of consciousness. Thankfully, her arms held on regardless.

When she thought she could hear a low frequency from behind them and turned her head only to see a giant animal with its jaws open, even though she was perfectly capable of forming coherent sentences, Looks to the Moon screamed.

She barely registered that they had reached a little island, that the little creature was prying her hands free of the fish. She reluctantly released her grip and watched as it dove back into the waves. She stared after it. In the distance, she could still see the enormous…. Snake… thing…? It didn’t look that big from where she was. They had travelled so far, already.

The little creature had climbed some poles to reach pupae. Alright. She would rather not watch this. The water stretched on endlessly on the other side of the island, though she could spot other little islands and what she could only conclude must be plants nearby (relatively so; still too far for her to swim to).

Something surfaced from the water. A dark snout, eyes on the sides of its head, gills, countless jagged teeth as it opened its jaws with a hiss.

Her words were failing her once more as she brought her arms up to shield her face on some instinct she didn’t know she had. The lizard charged, moving clumsily on land yet still much faster than she could have made an attempt to escape. The teeth scraped against her arms, and the lizard backed away with a low growl. Made sense that it would be surprised; her exterior was harder than that of most animals this beast had come across, she was sure. Unfortunately, it wasn’t deterred, and charged again.

“Help, little creature!”

Moon found herself staring into an open maw as the lizard tried biting into her, to break through her exterior, and while she was almost certain that it would never succeed, her neurons were floating dangerously close to those sharp teeth.

Something hit the back of the lizard’s head. With a hiss, it backed away from Moon and her vulnerable neurons, turning around to face the little white creature that had thrown the rock. The creature bounced in place and headed for the open water as the lizard began charging for it, instead. Moon had half a moment to be concerned for the safety of her little friend before she heard a whooshing noise she had never heard before. But there was nothing around, where had it come from-?

A shadow crept across the island.

Moon looked to the skies.

It was a giant bird.

She couldn’t begin to figure out what she was seeing beyond that. The bird’s face looked like it was made of bone, it seemed to have… mechanical parts? It made no sense. None of it did. Nor did it matter, because regardless of what that thing was, it was going to eat her if she didn’t do something. And what could she do?

The bird lunged at her. He hand closed around something on the ground, bringing it up to shield herself. She wished that she could have closed her eyes. But she could not; and so, she was doomed to see the bird as it attacked, and just as doomed to see when the object she held up to it (in another reflex she didn’t realize she had) pierced its neck with a sickening squelch.

Living matter landed on her body and her perpetually open eyes, but her hands wouldn’t release the spear. The bird gave a few disorganized flaps of its wings before the spear pulled free, releasing more matter and fluids, and knocking into the bird’s face with a clank. The face which… came off. And landed in Moon’s lap.

It was all too much. She saw the bird retreat for a little bit, only to lunge at her again, its head now exposed, when something in her peripheral vision took the spear and tossed it at the bird once more. The bird screeched as the object stuck to its body, and, with a cloud of steam, it took off into the distance.

Moon reached up to wipe the surface of her eye clean. She ended up smearing around the… whatever it was. Going back into the water was beginning to feel like an appealing option.

The little creature next to her tensed up again. Looking to the other side of the island, Moon could see the dark head of the lizard from before peeking from the water as it swam towards them. No, no, not again-

The little creature reached for the bone mask in Moon’s lap, lifting it up. The lizard splashed with its webbed feet as it did all in its power to stop moving towards them. Then, it turned and swam into the distance.

Ah. Perhaps it had evolved to fear the birds. Or learned to do so. Regardless.

Was it over?

Moon stared after the lizard as it disappeared beneath the waves. Her neurons floated in the air, safe and sound. The little creature lowered the mask and turned to her, holding out the object.

“Oh. Thank you.” She felt like the ‘thank you’ wasn’t sufficient. Perhaps she could muster something better a little later. Right now, she just focused on moving her hands, closing them around the mask, holding it to her face. She had no way of attaching it. But it had two holes for the bird’s eyes, and she conveniently had two antennae. And so, she placed the mask’s eyeholes on those. It was far from a perfect fit, and it obscured some of her vision, so that she had to tilt her head awkwardly to look upwards. But perhaps it would be enough to keep the lizards at bay.

“What now, little creature?” she asked.

The creature pointed up at the poles it had been climbing before.

You have got to be kidding me.

 

Notes:

I kinda miss wattpad. I want to make book covers for my fics pls

Chapter 8

Please stop messaging me. I have work to do.

Seven Red Suns told me that you were having difficulties. As your senior, I might be able to help.

I spoke to him in confidence.

I’ll let him know that. Either way, if you would like to elaborate on what issue you’re facing, let me know – we all have a better chance at success when we work together!

It’s hopeless.

Sorry?

It can’t be done. There is no solution to the Great Problem.

I understand it can feel frustrating.

So you agree then?

I don’t. There are still many lines of inquiry we haven’t pursued.

There are infinite hypotheses. Are we to test them all, blindly?

No one ever said it was to be an easy task. Do you not enjoy it, when something is hard? When success does not come easily?

Forget it. I have work to do.

...

 

 

 

It was not the next rain cycle, but the one after, when Looks to the Moon broke.

She didn’t know what else it could have been. She didn’t have the information available to know what might have been wrong with her. All she knew was that everything hurt. She couldn’t remember what she was made of, was not sure if she was using muscles or mechanical parts to move. But whatever it was, she was in agony. And she couldn’t sleep.

The little creature’s breathing had slowed, its heartbeat steady and deep in sharp contrast to the earlier fluttering beats. It bore a few bruises, a few little cuts. Tiny injuries that would likely be gone by the time it awoke again. Its belly was round with food. That would also change with the time spent in shelter.

Moon couldn’t recall every time she had seen the creature stop to eat, or flinch with pain when its skin scraped against jagged, broken metal while they fled from yet another threat. The lizards would no longer approach them, but the birds weren’t deterred; neither were the leeches or the plants. Because of course, even the plants would want to eat them. The world was hostile like that.

They had made it to the shelter when the ground already shook with the rain. Another close call. Like every cycle out for her had thus far been. She wondered if the little creature experienced the danger of rain as often when it was not dragging her along. Probably not.

She tried to adjust herself, and was met with more pain.

She wondered if it would be okay to ask the creature to return her to her can. Drowning every cycle had not been pleasant. But she was quite used to it. At least she would not be burdening another being like that.

Wasn’t that all iterators did, anyways? Take up recourses, give nothing in return to those they took water from. To the little creatures like the one sleeping next to her.

She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. But she started to shake, her neurons blinking in and out. She couldn’t make it stop, didn’t know where it was coming from. She just wanted it to end. She didn’t want to go out there again. Didn’t want to endure another cycle.

The little creature stirred in its sleep, nuzzled closer to her, and then stilled once more.

The creature.

It felt strange calling it “little creature”, as if it was just another animal and not the sole actor keeping her alive from cycle to cycle.

It wasn’t like she had anything better to do, since sleep wouldn’t come.

Moon started uncompressing some of her data regarding the lifeforms commonly inhabiting the areas immediately next to her. It was a slow process – she had to move the data to her working memory which was miniscule to begin with, read through the information there, and then compress it once more to make space for more.

Looking through her remaining data, she began to wonder how much time had passed since the last time she had been able to update these files; since the time she was fully functional. Many of the creatures she read up on she hadn’t seen, and she couldn’t find anything on most the creatures she had encountered. Including the little creature. While she was hardly going to bother going through all her files, thus far, there hadn’t been a single mention. Maybe she wasn’t looking hard enough.

Then, she thought of the steam powered birds and sea serpents with mechanical jaws. Those were hardly normal fauna, either. It was all rather peculiar. She couldn’t imagine someone had built them like that, or that the animals themselves had somehow learned to make machines.

She herself was part machine.

She didn’t understand why her creators would have also made giant predatory birds. She had been made for a purpose. Those birds, probably not. But the fact that they were partially mechanic could have pointed towards them having originated as purposed organisms, much like herself. Maybe she couldn’t find them on her files because they had looked different back then. Maybe they were descendants. Maybe even hybrids.

That brought her back to the little creature. It looked like a huge slug… but it leapt and bit like a feline. Its traits were unconventional and wholly unfamiliar to her, as their current combination. Could it be that it, too, was a hybrid of some sort, descended from one of the purposed organisms originally inhabiting the area?

That ancestor had clearly made it out there, then. Not built for enduring harsh nature, yet still carving itself a spot in the ever-changing ecosystem. Finding a way to survive, to propagate.

And now the little slugcat was sleeping next to her. Adapted enough to protect someone as unadapted as herself.

Perhaps she could learn to adapt, also.

She finally fell asleep.

Chapter 9

“Ah, what is this, little creature?”

Looks to the Moon looked up at the structure up ahead. It seemed that the way was blocked, but… it almost looked like a door, or a gate. Much like the ones that would line up each of the shelters they had slept in. There was writing on the wall, as well… What did that say again?

Hm. Reproduction. That just brought up more questions.

The slugcat shoved at Moon’s shoulders, pushing her towards the gate. She supposed that it knew the way better than her, but it really didn’t seem like the gate would be budging.

Yet, as the creature followed her, the mechanism came to life. Water poured onto them (disturbing), and then hissed into steam underneath the metal grid they were standing on. Or, well. The slugcat was standing. Moon was on her knees, as she was whenever she didn’t absolutely have to use her frail legs to hold herself up. At times like these, when she saw the pipes below light up with heat, she wished she could have put more distance between herself and that.  

The slugcat was jumping in place impatiently. It bumped into one of Moon’s neurons. She reached to steady the creature, but just then, the gate ahead opened, and the slugcat ran ahead.

“Wait for me!” Moon crawled across the threshold, not a moment too soon; the gate closed behind her right as she and her neurons had made it to the other side. The slugcat was climbing up a pole. She really hoped there weren’t more of those ahead.

The atmosphere of this region was… different. Whereas the area near her can had been blindingly bright, she had never seen anywhere as dark as here. For a moment, she worried about the rain; but there was no rumbling thunder or shaking of the ground. It was safe, just… dark.

As she followed the slugcat out into the open, she understood why.

Above them, the sun was obscured. The object casting a shadow on the expanse of these lands was so massive that Moon had to painfully crane her neck, trying to comprehend what she was looking at. It stood high above, but even with the distance, it filled most of Moon’s vision.

The slugcat had grabbed her hand and was tugging at it, telling her to get a move on. But she was too shocked to move.

She was lost staring at her little brother.

The slugcat became impatient again, nearly knocking her over with its tail. Moon tore away her gaze from her brother's can to look at the bridge up ahead. It was noticeably decayed. How were they to cross it…?

The slugcat ran ahead and leaped across a gap where the bridge had collapsed.

“No way.”

The first jump was terrifying. She stared down into the depths, wondering what would even happen if she fell. Would her body be able to sustain the damage? What if it didn’t? ... What if it did? How would she get back up? Would she be doomed to rot away at the bottom, all by herself, when the slugcat had gone to such lengths to keep her alive?

Her jump was a little pathetic compared to the distance the slugcat was able to clear with its strong hind legs. But it was enough for her to grab onto the rebar sticking out of the collapsed bridge. It was enough that the slugcat could help her get back up onto the bridge, to clear the following jumps. Her legs hurt. But they carried her across. Against all odds.

So she was getting stronger, then.

The slugcat strayed from the path a little, coming back with a data pearl. Moon wasn't sure why there would be one of those here. Regardless, she was cruious to see what was on it. She reached for the pearl, hoping that the slugcat would hand it to her; after all, why else pick it up? But, instead of being handed the pearl, she watched in horror as the slugcat brought the pearl to its mouth and swallowed it.

“No! Those aren’t food, little creature!”

The slugcat just stared at her and then ran past her. Alright.

They descended into one of the buildings, where it was even darker. Her neurons and the slugcat illuminated the rooms enough for her to see where her little guide was headed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t always enough to see her own feet, and between that and the fact that her legs were still a little weak from the jumping, she found herself moving even clumsier than before. The building was in disarray, much like the bridge above. She tried to imagine how it could have looked like in the past, before it had decayed so. The expansive halls must have been beautiful once. Now, they were dripping with mold.

In the darkness, she spotted a bright, orange light. The slugcat was heading straight towards it, and Moon kept up best as she could. Crawling through a tunnel, they arrived in a room with… a scavenger!

Looks to the Moon had met scavengers before, she was quite sure. They used to arrive in her can, bringing her objects to look at. She supposed they eventually got bored of her, for they didn’t return again. She didn’t have much to offer without her memories, after all. She didn’t recognize this particular scavenger, though she doubted she would have remembered them regardless. They were staring at her and the slugcat as they arrived, digging at the ground with their hands. She wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Hello,” she tried. No response. Just a stare, and more digging.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the slugcat begin to shake.

“Oh, no. I told you it wasn’t edible,” Moon sighed, dragging herself away from the creature as it vomited up the white orb from before. The scavenger had turned to look at the slugcat, scratching at the ground again, and as the now slimy pearl made its reappearance, they snatched it, dropping something at the slugcat’s paws before retreating into a different tunnel. The slugcat picked up the object and handed it to Moon. It glowed bright enough to illuminate half the room. A lantern! So the creature had met the scavengers before then, as well. Apparently enough to establish trade with them. And it seemed they had no qualms in accepting pearls that were in a less than ideal condition. Moon shuddered.

Moon would have liked to stop to marvel at some of the creatures skittering about the halls; some of them seemed bioluminescent, and rather cute. But the slugcat was running ahead again, so that she couldn’t keep up by just crawling. And so, she got up on her feet again, no matter how unsteady it felt. She was willing to endure the ache if it meant not losing her friend in the dark. She could have sworn she heard something other than the mice walking across the walls, and she was not very keen on finding out what they were.

Her legs really did carry her. It was far from pleasant, but, like the climbing of poles, she expected that it would only get easier with practice. She could adapt. And, they were so close to Five Pebbles already. It would be alright.

The slugcat stabbed at kelps up ahead. Moon wasn't broken from her pondering.

Chapter 10

So, how are you coping :))

What do you mean?

The neighbour they’re giving you?

Well, we’ll see. It’s still up in the air whether they’ll be built as close as originally planned.

Oooh I get it because of the water

No, there should be plenty here to support two. The current plan is to build on top of the Citadel, and well…

The zealots aren’t happy. Figures.

Please be respectful.

Yeah no disrespect or anything but if they wanna ascend etc then having more of us to figure that out is going to be more important than whatevertheheck they’re doing there. + it’s not particularly much land they’ll have to sacrifice anyways!

No, I suppose it's not much. But, the Citadel is important to THEM.

…

 

 

Moon stretched her limbs as she emerged from the shelter. Soon, she was able to stop leaning against a wall and stand on her own, even if her legs felt a bit funny after spending so long curled up in the cramped den. There were little fireflies illuminating the space in addition to her neurons, the lantern and the slugcat, so all in all, it was quite bright out.

The slugcat led her to climb upwards. The climb was tough; she missed an important jump once and ended up falling back down some distance. It wasn’t far enough to properly hurt, though it was still startling. But, on her second try, she cleared the jump and was ready to proceed with her little guide. The slugcat had apparently spent the time waiting hunting for a little centipede, which it was now munching down with fervour. Upon seeing Moon clear the jump, it started jumping ahead, leading her through one of those little pipes Moon had gotten so used to.

On the other side, the air was more cool, more fresh, although they were still sheltered by a stretch of a collapsed corridor. She could heard… snapping sounds? She couldn’t pinpoint what could have made those, but they sounded to be coming from a distance. As they walked ahead, the air suddenly lit up with something, causing Moon to pause. It was a sharp sound, a bright light, and… electricity, perhaps? It was odd to be in the presence of unleashed energy, after all this time. But it meant they couldn’t be far from the can.

The slugcat stopped suddenly, right as they were about to leave the broken corridor. It stared ahead. Once Moon was already considering sitting down to wait, the creature grabbed her hand and ran, pulling her behind. It took a moment for Moon to remember to move her feet, so she stumbled a little.

The slugcat let go of her hand but kept running ahead. Moon’s legs were starting to ache again. Was there really a need to be running around so much? They had already spent the previous cycles running, even though there didn’t seem to be anything dangerous present and they always made it into a shelter before the ground could begin shaking with rain. The creature stopped to wait for her – no, it was just reaching to pick up some sort of a blue, faintly glowing fruit.

The stretch of land they were running across was littered with construction material. She wasn’t sure if it was unused, or if it had perhaps fallen from Pebbles; that would be rather concerning! It was hard to tell, since it had regardless been on the ground for long enough that it was rusted and grown over.

The slugcat had finished gathering fruit in its little paws and was now running ahead again, just before Moon could reach it. The constant running was starting to feel rather uncomfortable. Her neurons could only generate so much energy for her, after all.

“Mind waiting a moment? I need a little break,” Moon said, slowing down to a walk.

The slugcat ran to her, swallowing one of the glowing fruit while it was running (that couldn’t be safe) and started pushing her ahead.

“Is that a no on the break-“

Snap, snap, snap.

Moon turned around towards the sound. In the distance, she saw two glowing dots. She first thought they might be fireflies, but they were moving in synchrony, frantically, accompanied by sharp sounds of metal that reminded her a little too much of the way her umbilical would smash against the walls of her can during rain cycles.

The sky lit up with an electrical impulse.

She saw a giant, snapping beak.

Moon shouted before remembering to run. But that thing was fast, so fast – it was catching up, she couldn’t go that fast, not even the slugcat could go that fast, it snapped its beak hungrily at them, its feet sharp as spears sending off sparks as it ran straight at them –

And suddenly, there was metal above them. Not a moment too soon – the bird caught up and stuck its long beak into their hideout, snapping furiously. It was uncomfortably close to one of Moon’s neurons. She grabbed hold of it and brought it flush to her chest, not caring how it made her head get fuzzy. She pressed against the slugcat to be further away from the bird’s hungry maw.

Finally, the bird seemed to give up, retreating. With deafening clanging sounds, it climbed over the metal shielding them and ran away.

Moon came to realize what exactly they were hiding under. It was some of that construction material lying about. That she was small enough to be able to use what must have been just scraps compared to the entire expanse of her brother’s can was a little disconcerting. But she wasn’t able to linger on that for long, for in the distance, there were more birds.

Moon crouched down and pressed her hands over the vulture mask on her antennae as they ran above them, making the metal shake. She told herself that it wouldn’t collapse. There was no way, if it had not collapsed up until now. Who knows how long it had been here, wasting away. Who knows, who knows. Certainly not her. She didn’t even know how to make it stop.

Eventually, the clanging stopped, and the slugcat pushed at her arms.

“No!” Moon whispered. She wasn’t sure if the birds could hear, but if they did, then she wasn’t going to risk it. “What if they come back?”

The slugcat stared at her. The clanging didn’t resume. It still didn’t resume by the time the creature started pulling at her arms again. Reluctantly Moon got up, and joined the slugcat in running across the stretch of what she could only describe as a wasteland. They were far from the metal, now, there was another in sight, but they were in the middle of them, please, please, don’t show up now-

Snap, snap.

Moon’s feet skidded on the ground as she spotted several of the creatures’ eyes in the distance. She fell on her hands and knees, no, no –

There was a blinding flash of light. The slugcat had thrown one of those pieces of fruit it was carrying, and was now helping her up. The birds were still coming their way, she knew, she couldn’t see them but she could hear them, there was no way they would outrun them…

Moon didn’t stop running as one of the bird’s legs stabbed at the ground right next to her, sending sparks in her face. She didn’t stop running as the rest of them ran over them as well, some knocking into her and her neurons, but not grabbing them, bumping into one another as if they couldn’t see.

She supposed it made sense. It made sense for a creature used to the darkness to not be well adapted to light. It made sense that such a creature would get overwhelmed in the presence of something that disruptive-

The slugcat was right in her face. She didn’t remember when she had sat on the ground, or when they had reached the hiding spot again. She turned to look past the slugcat, to where they had tried to go before hurrying back. The land stretched on and on and on.

“I can’t,” Moon said. Her hands were shaking. The slugcat looked at her, wide-eyed as always.

“It’s hopeless. There’s no way we’ll make it. If those… things don’t catch us, then the rain is going to come. You’ll drown, little creature. Just…”

She couldn’t find the words anymore. The slugcat stared a moment longer before pulling at her arm, but now back the way they had come. Back towards the shelter where they had spent the last rain cycle.

Once Moon was sure there were no birds in sight, she obliged and ran across with the slugcat. Descending to the shelter was far easier than it had been to climb up there, and the slugcat caught a few more bugs on the way down.

As the chamber’s entrance closed back up to seal them in, Moon’s legs finally gave out.

Notes:

:(

(but on a happier note. just broke 10,000 words :D)

Chapter 11

The next cycle, Moon didn’t leave the shelter. The slugcat went out regardless (it hardly had a choice, anyways; not everyone could just consume micro-organisms from the surrounding air). Moon wondered if it would return to her, if her failure the previous cycle had perhaps made the creature give up on her. Why was it bothering to help her, in the first place?

But, the creature had come back each time up until this point, run ahead but then let her catch up. The only time she thought it might not return was when the darkness of the shelter closed in around her. Logically, she knew it would, and not long after departing, it did. Its belly was round and its face a touch sticky with what was undoubtedly a fresh meal, and it plopped down to sleep happily despite the rain being far away, still.

Or she thought the rain would be far away. But it did seem to come sooner, this cycle. She wondered what Five Pebbles was doing. But she couldn’t really recall what types of processes led to increased water intake, anyways. Such information had not been relevant to her in a long time.

When she woke up to the shelter opening up once more, she did decide to go out. The ache in her legs had all but disappeared, replaced by the dull throb of not having moved them in a little bit. She looked up to where they had climbed before, where the stretch of lands with the birds would be. But, the slugcat didn’t lead her there, opting to pick fruit instead, never straying too far from the shelter. It didn’t seem very useful to Looks to the Moon, to just hunt and then hibernate, when the time spent resting would surely erase any benefit from eating in the first place. Yet after killing and grabbing a particularly fat centipede, the slugcat led her back there again. She had done nothing, once more. Just stood there while the slugcat ran about. She felt like she had no right to complain about hibernating with a centipede corpse.

Again, the rain fell sooner than Moon had expected.

The following cycle, Moon woke up to the slugcat gobbling up the centipede. She wondered if that was safe; after all, that thing had been dead for quite some time. Then again, how would she know if the slugcat only ate freshly killed meat? Maybe it would have feasted on the dead more often, if the rain didn’t always wash them away.

This time, the slugcat led her back to the collapsed corridor. Moon’s legs shook as she followed. This was concerning; it was too early for them to weaken from exertion if she was to ever make it across.

Snap, snap, snap. Moon tensed up. But the sound was still far away.

“What if we don’t make it? Or what if we get stuck there, when the rain comes?”

The slugcat only looked her in the eyes, silent as ever.

Maybe it knew better.

Moon followed the slugcat with a brisk walking pace, not wanting to risk falling again by running. The speed wasn’t much different from her running speed, regardless, unpractised as she was. The slugcat led her through tight tunnels that were imperceptible to her at first glance, but her friend seemed to know where they were. As Moon squeezed through tunnel after tunnel, she could hear the birds running past above, the ground shaking when their legs stabbed at the metal.

Down in the tunnels, it was certainly safe. But it was also slow. It seemed like such a long time had already passed since they left the den behind. Shaded by the can above, it was impossible to tell when the clouds started building up. The only tell would be the thunder, the shaking of the ground, and by that point, it would definitely be too late to return back the way they came. For how much longer did they have to go? Looks to the Moon could only rely on the slugcat.

Emerging from a tunnel, Moon saw a particularly long stretch of land up ahead, the nearest hiding spot nowhere to be seen. The slugcat took to running immediately, with Moon following close behind.

The slugcat was picking up the speed, now, so Moon had to take to running as well. Her neurons trailed her effortlessly, even at her highest speed, for it really wasn’t much. Her legs felt as though they would collapse again. But she couldn’t stop now. Not when there was still so long to go.

Snap, snap.

Moon didn’t dare look behind her as she tried to pick up the speed. It felt like the more she tried, the slower she went. The rubble beneath her was getting launched in the air, her steps heavier than before.

She couldn’t breathe. No, she still didn’t need to. Though she couldn’t quite remember why.

Snap, snap.

Moon kept her eyes firmly fixed on the slugcat, to the point that she couldn’t see anything else anymore. The creature kept glancing back at her as it ran, its eyes glistening with the occasional green light. She kept looking at its eyes. Everything else seemed to have blurred. Had there been a tunnel, she would have run right past it. She just had to trust that the slugcat knew. Where they were going. She could hardly even hear now, her head filled with a sharp ringing sound.

The slugcat turned its eyes somewhere above Looks to the Moon.

That was the only warning she got, before she saw two sides of a massive beak in her periphery. They closed around her in a clang and a sound of scraping metal. She might have yelled. Her legs were no longer on the ground, she could no longer see the slugcat. The edges of the beak didn’t dig in past her exterior, but she couldn’t move.

She was going fast, so fast – she couldn’t see her neurons anymore, either. She could barely feel them. There was pain, there was – she was going somewhere. She didn’t want to. Where were her neurons? Where was the white… thing? Where was she going? The beak pressed to her sides. She was being thrown this way and that, just like…

Like water.

Like with how waves of water would crash into her, and she couldn’t see, she could maybe move, but it didn’t make a difference. She was going somewhere, maybe, but where, it wasn’t her choice. She could only hope. There was no hope. The ground moved past, so fast, it was a blur of black and grey and sometimes green and sparks and metal and dark dark dark

It stopped moving.

She was on the ground.

Her body ached, she had fallen, she thought. What had happened? She could only see dark… Ah, her face was down. She could maybe try lifting it, to see a little better. It was still quite dark when she did raise her head, and whereas before she had only heard metal and the air whooshing past her, now, the ringing had returned. She looked at her arm. It had a darker spot, where the bird had grabbed her. Scathed. Hmm. The bird. Where was-

Screech!

Moon startled, pushing herself off the ground. What was that sound? The birds didn’t make those kinds of noises, did they? …Where was the slugcat?

Looking up, Moon saw that there was some construction material just a little ahead. She also saw the bird that had grabbed her before, coming back towards her with a limp. As the air flashed green, she saw a spear sticking from between its joints.

Moon scurried to hide under the metal, and not a moment too soon. She barely escaped the hungry beak of the monstrous creature, still trying to reach for her. Moon could only stare as it snapped at her inches from her face, before retreating and running ahead.

The way back no longer obscured, Moon saw her neurons floating towards her, and behind them, the slugcat, having climbed up a pole where the birds couldn’t reach it, hopefully. Could it have been the little creature that screamed earlier? … Could it scream? She had never heard it make a noise like that before.

Some birds ran over Moon’s hideout, towards where the slugcat was. Moon froze. Her neurons were still out in the open! The birds approached fast, the neurons headed for her with no sense of the danger. No aversion to the snapping beaks.

She was going to die.

But one bird ran straight past them, as did another; maybe they didn’t eat neurons? A third bird bumped into one of them, uncomfortably. She could barely see the neurons as the fourth and final bird’s leg stabbed into the ground right in front of Moon’s shelter. The neurons were close to her now, they were almost to her –

Suddenly, there was a deafening, indescribable noise, and Moon was knocked to the ground. It was over as quickly as it happened. She raised her head to see the neurons floating to her, one of them…

One of them was moving much slower than the others. When it finally did reach her, Moon saw why. Its surface was torn, and though she could see it repairing itself, some of its contents had spilled into the air, flickering with light before disappearing from sight.

It didn’t matter that the birds didn’t eat neurons. All that was needed was for one to be in the way.

Moon held onto the damaged neuron, trying to feel if she had maybe forgotten anything important as a result. But it was hard to say. How do you remember that you’ve forgotten?

Meanwhile, the clanking of the birds’ legs faded away, and Moon saw the slugcat descend from the pole and then sprint to her. It ran fast, so fast. It really must have been accommodating for her lack of speed, before. In a flash, it reached Moon’s shelter.

Moon released the damaged neuron to gather the slugcat into her arms instead, squeezing as tight as she could muster, though her arms hurt where they had been grabbed earlier. The slugcat pressed into her with a purr, rubbing its face on her.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” Moon murmured. “How much longer is it?”

The slugcat looked up from her arms, pointing upwards. Moon turned her head to look. Oh. There was no more land to run across, just a short climb upwards and… It was one of the can’s legs. They had made it. And there was still no rain, though Moon was pretty sure it would usually have come by now… Something crossed her mind, then. Could the slugcat tell how long it was until rain? It was not unbelievable that an animal could have such an instinct. Moon squeezed it tighter.

It was hard to not feel giddy, even with how she could see the damaged neuron float lower than the other ones. They had made it. They were almost to Five Pebbles. Surely, nothing could be worse than what they had just gone through.

Chapter 12

Erratic Pulse. It’s been a few cycles - please reply if you’ve received my message.

I’m replying so you can state your business and then leave me be.

You’re trying to cross yourself out.

It is no one’s business but mine. I am simply turning all rocks in search of a solution.

Do you not find it ironic?

Excuse me?

You’re creating more life, to suffer the ills of this world, in an attempt to erase yourself from it. Is that not the opposite of what we strive to do, as iterators?

Our creators clearly didn’t care about that hypocrisy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.

Oh no.

Please stop messaging me.

It’s you, isn’t it?

I do not need your help!

…

 

 

 

Moon’s can had always been close to the ground. With the area mostly consisting of water, she didn’t imagine there would have been much reason to place her higher; the area couldn’t have been in very high demand for other construction projects. Once her can collapsed, it was even lower, to the point that little creatures that could brave the ocean could crawl in to inhabit her carcass. They could find prosperity there, the rusting metal a shelter from the harsh world outside, giving plants a relatively unchanging surface to grow and flourish.

The first thing Moon felt upon crossing over to Five Pebbles’ exterior was a charging electrical impulse. The first thing she could see, everything living there running for their lives. She saw a giant spider get knocked off a wall when a lizard rushed past it. Legs flailing, the insect fell into the depths.

They made it to a shelter, which thankfully seemed well insulated, from the electricity and from the harsh world outside.

The same could be said of Five Pebbles, unfortunately.

Moon had almost forgotten how much she hated climbing poles. To have to grip so tightly that her hands hurt, and then to somehow drag her clumsy body upwards… Thankfully, she had gotten better at it. This way she didn’t need to fear for her life too much as she looked down only to see an infinite drop.

The vulture mask on Moon’s head proved useful once again as an off-colour spot on the wall would suddenly scurry away from them. She felt smug about it, for a little bit. Clearly these creatures weren’t very intelligent, to not be able to distinguish a giant bird from just its mask. But as she saw it scale the wall like it was nothing, for a moment, she thought that perhaps she would rather be a lizard than an iterator.

Sometimes, she had to release one of her hands from a pole, to push her damaged neuron along. It was falling behind. She was never quite sure if one of those lizards would be around, and she’d rather not risk leaving any neuron out of sight.

With how arduous the climb was, there was thankfully shelter, as well. Moon wondered if Five Pebbles knew that there were other beings nesting in the nooks and crannies of his can. If it was uncomfortable, like a skin parasite. Or if he cared at all.

The following cycle, they continued the climb. The slugcat took to following behind Moon rather than leading her, as it offered protection from the camouflaged lizards, and there was only one way to go, anyways.

Moon soon found out that though the lizards fled from them, they were hardly the only threat present.

She heard the spider before she saw it, as it flung something at her. That something fell right off before Moon could begin to inspect it, down, down. It was more confusing than it was threatening. It was far scarier when the spider started scuttling towards her, perched far above. There was nowhere to dodge it to – maybe she could have tried leaping to a different pole, but she wasn’t confident in her ability to grab onto it without sliding down.

This didn’t turn out to be necessary, because the spider ran straight past her. It spat again, this time somewhere below…

The slugcat.

Her friend hopped to another pole and frantically climbed past her, fleeing from the insect. Moon could only watch as it followed, moving fast, so fast in this terrain, faster than even the slugcat could climb. The slugcat reached a platform and swung a spear at the spider, threateningly. As Moon tried to catch up, she saw another spider crawling down the wall.

“Look out!”

But Moon’s warning came too late. The new spider spat at the distracted slugcat, hitting its target as the projectile stuck to the little creature. It threw its spear and dove into a tunnel lining the wall. Moon’s arms were in agony as she finally made it to the platform as well, following the slugcat into the tunnel. It opened up a little after the tight entrance, leading into a little room. There, Moon could see that the slugcat hadn’t made it far.

Collapsed it lay, almost as though it was asleep. But it wasn’t curled up as usual, just… completely limp. Moon grabbed onto the projectile and pulled it free. It was a stinger, attached to a bag of some sort of fluid, mostly drained.

“Little creature?” she called. “Please, get up.”

She reached for the slugcat, shaking it by the shoulder. Still, nothing. Cold dread pooled in her chest. She could hear a spider approaching behind her.

“Please, get up! There’s a spider coming – you have to get up!”

No response. Moon’s neurons blinked in and out. Was it dead? It couldn’t have been dead! Did she know anything about the spiders? Was their venom lethal? What could she do? What could she –

Moon turned around to look at the tight tunnel. There was a spider crawling towards them, flashing its chelicerae.

“Get away!” Moon hissed. “You’re not getting this one.”

She knew that the spider couldn’t understand. It faltered only briefly, and then continued its slow approach. There was nowhere to run. Moon’s neurons floated in the air, dangerously close to the spider’s hungry grasp.

“Did you not hear me? Get out!” Moon grabbed a little rock from the ground and threw it at the insect. It backed away, but only a little bit. Moon reached to grab the rock again. The spider’s many eyes glinted when one of her glowing neurons floated past it.

Moon growled. If that thing didn’t understand speech, then this would hopefully be clear enough.

Maybe it did understand. For at this moment, it crouched down and leaped at her.

Moon stumbled back as the spider’s fangs scraped against her face. It took all her strength to shove it off. She kicked frantically, hitting it once, and it backed further away, out onto the platform, crouching to leap again.

Lost in some ancient instinct, Moon flung the rock at the spider again. She watched in a confusing mix of horror and satisfaction as the creature stumbled and fell off the platform.

She thought of going to check if it had grabbed onto something to save itself or fallen all the way down. She found that she didn’t much care. She crawled back into the tunnel, to find the slugcat still on the ground, unmoving.

Was its body a little cold under her hands? That wouldn’t do. She tried rubbing at its skin, to warm it up. It couldn’t be dead, it couldn’t –

The creature twitched.

“Oh!”

Then it stretched its legs and got up, a little unsteady, but staring at her as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t scare me like that!” Moon exclaimed, closing her arms around the creature. It soon pulled itself free to continue the climb. Right. They were on a schedule here.

They slept in a shelter again. Moon’s arms ached from having to pull herself up the poles, up the tunnels, up, up, up. For how much longer could they climb? Moon thought about requesting that they stay at a shelter for a few cycles, to allow her arms to adapt. But then again, she wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of staying in this area for very long. And so, they continued the climb.

There were thankfully less spiders the further up they got. It had been a little while since they had seen something hostile, when Moon heard a sound she had never heard before. The slugcat climbed faster.

“What was that?” she asked, pushing her damaged neuron along as she tried to keep up.

It sounded almost like… water? But not the way rain sounded.

Moon craned her head upwards. There was something approaching, something… very large. But then, before she could get a good look, it disappeared behind a cube-like structure.

Moon continued her climb. She wasn’t sure what that thing was, but she wanted to get back to her friend. The slugcat was waiting on a platform, wide-eyed, reaching its paw towards her. She was just about to grab onto the paw, when...Something happened. Her head felt fuzzy, for a moment, what –

Where were her neurons?

Four floated around her.

The damaged one wasn’t there. Left behind, maybe, so she looked down, and…

She was just in time to see a blue and black something slide one fifth of her processing power to its body before everything went dark.

Chapter 13

Ļ̶̱͓̖̆ở̷̟̳̗͕̠̰̩̯̉̈́̍̆̿̐͝͝ǫ̶̨̜̟̗̭̎͋̒͘̕͜͝k̶̝̫͍̼͖̬͓͇̎͑̅͂s̸̟̼̲̿͐̓̂̿͌́̄́̀̓͐͝ ̶̡̳̉̍́̃͊̃͑͝t̸̡̮̠̪̆́̐̀̅́̈́͘o̶̢̧̨̩̳̣̳̲̮̹̦̦̤̣̊̽͆̀̔̐́͋͌̾͘͝ ̷̧̜̣̤̣̗̦͔̳͚̲͈̟̹̈́͌͠ţ̷̨̡̛̘͕͎̈́̾̓̏̕ḩ̷̡̍͒͆̇̓͐̽͗̑̎̈́ę̶̺̫͚͊͝ ̴̨͉͎͔͔̠͇͇̝̜͎̃̔̃̓̈́͑̈́̽̚͘͝M̸̥͙̬̾͑̉̏͘o̵͖͂̾̆͊̀̏̀̏̋͂̾̚͝͝o̸̧̧̢̩̤͎͋̀̉̄̏̋͋ǹ̵̲͇̤͚͈̱̗̎̐͊̒͆̑̚͜͝͝ ̸̢̯͕͓̬͍̜͎̳͛̄̅̾̂́̆͑͆͂͝ͅ f̷̠̱̬̺͍̍̓ȅ̴͕̗̣͔͉͓̽̏̓̐̅l̵̬̈͑́̋ḷ̷̨̮̺͚͈͋́̚͘͝͝.̸̨͈̰̳͓̮̓̾͌̌ ̴̩̑̔S̴̼͓̬̳̥̦̀̐̉͐͝h̴̲̮̭̱̅e̶̛̦̱̽̀̑̌ ̷͍͊̈́̈́̀̔͜m̷̲̩̿̽̽̓̒͜͠u̴̗͐̋̕s̸̢̫̙̓̂ţ̸̺͂͋ ̸̥̭̱͂́̕͜h̷̥̱̗̀͐̂̂ä̷͉́̽̎̕͜͝v̸̨̨̀͆͌̔̾͝ė̵̲̺̈́͆̓̒͘ ̴̳̱̪̜͇̾̕l̶͖̯͆͛̒e̵̡̡̘̣̣̜͆͂͐͂͝t̴̨̖͗͑̔̕ ̴̼̻̪̊̌̊̚ ̷͈̽ǵ̴̲o̵̤̔ ̷̺̆o̶̖͋f̸͎͝ ̸̙́t̶̼͋ȟ̸̫é̴͕ ̸̝̋p̴̝͊o̵̬̿ľ̸͔ë̸̦.̵̻͠ ̷̳̈́T̸̜͐h̷̻̉e̷̿ͅ ̴̜͘f̷̰̕ǎ̵̙l̵͉̀ḻ̷͗ ̴͎͒ ̷w̶a̸s̴n̵’̷t̷ ̷v̵e̷r̷y̶ ̶l̴o̶n̷g̴.̷ ̴I̸t̶ ̴b̸a̵r̴e̷l̴y̴ ̷ e̶v̷e̶n̷ felt like anything.

For a moment, she couldn’t see. When she did, it was the slugcat, right in front of her. Shoving her. It looked like it was shaking. But it was her own body that was. The slugcat’s paws were on her, but she couldn’t feel them. She was moving backwards. Then, there was metal around her. She was in a tunnel. The slugcat was also in the tunnel.

She heard something wet. It was getting louder. It was moving towards them. She saw a t̷͇̤̏̾ē̷͓̟̑n̷̜͂̓t̵̫͆̏ͅá̸̙̻c̵̗͚͋ĺ̶̮e̵̺̟͐ l̶̮̜̇̈͠į̵̢̱̩̫̱̘̳͈͙̈́̓͛̀̑̀͌̓̋̈́m̵̱͚̤̠̤̣̺̲̠̂̉̈́̔̓b̵̨̧̞͙̯̥͈͐͛̔̀̾̄͝ ã̶͔̆̃p̸̗̘͋p̴̺̐͠ë̸͎͑͝ṇ̴͛̉ḏ̸̢̹̽ä̵̯́̀g̷̻͌͛́e̴̪͇̙̾̎̚ long thing reach in the tunnel. It was dark blue and black. It was close. But it didn’t reach them. It didn’t reach her other neurons. It tried. It came in from the other side. Or maybe it was a different one. But it still didn’t reach them. Then it went away. The wet noises got quieter. Then they were gone.

Moon tried moving her arms. They moved, but not well. They were weak and ị̶̧̛̺̎̀͛͐͝ṁ̵͉̓͌͂͌̚̚p̸̢̙͚͚͍͚̥̭͈̲̩̩͗̿̃ṟ̶̻͚̻̝͖̔́̊̈́̾́͊͛̿̏̂͒͝e̷̹͚̫̣̣̒͜c̸̙̥̠̣̓̌͋̿̀̋̎͒̾͝͠į̷̱̦̦͇͇̥̬̄͜͜͠š̸̨̢̥̱̞̫̺̐̽̑̾̌̾͛̓̿͗̕ͅê̶͖̟̅̉̈́͆̆͊͆̄̃͜ͅ f̵̡͑͑̀ȕ̵͚͛̓m̷͚̬͑ḃ̶̨̞̱̅̍ḷ̴̰̮̒̈y̸͈͉͉̏ they didn’t do what she wanted them to do. Her head hurt. Everything hurt. Did they hurt because she fell, or did they hurt because the monster ate her neuron? Maybe both. It was weird. She tried to think but it didn’t work. She got thrown off and then couldn’t remember what it was that she thought about.

It had been a danger. She should have moved f̵̨͓̩̺͓̞̤͗͒̒̇̑̑̈͘̕ų̷̮̩̳̗̟̺́͋̏̌̈́̌͐̚n̶̝̻̲̘̟̈͑̆͂̌̐͒ͅc̷̗̈̔̂t̵̨̺̗͓̰͂̍i̴̡̩̳͈̜̙̐̃̐͘ͅó̶̠͚̥͕͇̐̋̆̒̉̅̉̽̓n̷̢̢̡͕͚̯̥̮̜͂̏̇͛̓̈́̓̔͛́̂͘̚ͅ important things out of the neuron that was d̵̩̺͉̥̖̫͈̝̫͌͛͑̍́̔̽̒́̌̕̕͠a̷̧͕͕̭͑̾̋́̿̚̚m̶͔̖͙̜͈͔̙͙͚̬͐̔́̊́̎̕a̵̻͔͍̿̀̓̎̈́͋͐̽̽̑̎̎͘g̴̻̈́͗̾͂̅̀̓͊̆̕é̷̖̺̘̙̟̞̣̹̇̍̓̆̈́̚d̸̢̛̘̥͉͓͇̪͖̣̲̯̮͒̽͒̒ hurt. She should have known something bad could happen. Weak things didn’t make it out here. Hurt things would die.

What was that big thing?

The slugcat’s paws were on her shoulder. She could feel them now. She felt d̷͈͚̖̜͌̀̏͋͗̈́̀̔̾̚ȉ̵̲̝͇̪̮̰͎̯̳̼͙̙̓͝z̷̗̜̹̭̗̎̂̔z̷̢͚͎̩͓̜͛̐͌̈́́̐͜͠ý̶̛͖̟ like she couldn’t stand up. But they could not stay here. It was dangerous. Rain would come and they would die if they stayed.

The pole was slow to climb. There were some lizards. That was okay, lizards were scared of them. There were no spiders. She saw the monster again, or maybe a different one, but it didn’t see them. She thought that maybe she was moving slower than usual. But maybe it was also just that she wasn’t paying attention. Though she tried to. But first they were inside, then they were outside, and she wasn’t sure when they had gone outside, but now they were there. She almost fell once. She just walked and didn’t see that the floor would end. The slugcat grabbed her before she stepped off. There were fireflies, but they were green. There was a wall. The slugcat slid down the wall. She did that too, though she was sure she would fall. But she didn’t. And then there was shelter.

“I’m not sure I can continue,” she said. “I’ll be fine here, if you leave me. You helped me already. At least I’m not stuck in the can anymore.”

But the slugcat was already falling asleep at her feet. And so she slept, too.

When she woke up, her head hurt a little less. Her body felt alright. But she felt dull. It took her some time to remember what had happened last cycle. It took her even longer to remember why they were here, what they were doing. How much was there left to climb? Could she do it? What if another monster came, or if there was a spider again?

“Do I have to go?” she asked the slugcat. The slugcat looked at her, and bounced in place. Almost like it was angry, but that probably wasn’t it. Though she hurt, she didn’t want to be left alone. And so she followed the slugcat out of the shelter.

There were some more poles, and some yellow lizards that ran away from them. There was orange stuff. The slugcat ate it. There was a tunnel. Her legs gave out twice when they went through. There was a gate. This was good. There was usually a shelter after a gate, and she was already tired.

But, instead, there were more tunnels. Going through tunnels was harder than it had been in a long time. Her hands were slipping. It was slower. Her body was heavy, so heavy. The slugcat was behind her, pushing her. It made it a little easier. But still, the corners were hard to move through. The tunnels were too tight. She thought that maybe the slugcat was moving her more than she herself was. It was hard to orient her arms right, it was hard to grab the walls, it was hard to see where she was going because her neurons were in front of her, but she couldn’t move them behind her because she wanted to see them to make sure that they weren’t missing –

The tunnel ended.

She fell out.

She hadn’t realized she was upside down.

Wait, she wasn’t. She wasn’t falling, she was just… floating. Everything was, her, her neurons, the slugcat now too.

She felt weightless. Moving was suddenly easy. It was familiar. She had felt like this all the time, once.

It was the inside of a can.

They had reached Five Pebbles.

Chapter 14

I don’t understand why you would want that. We don’t really know what happened to Sliver of Straw. Maybe she just died. We can’t know if that’s the solution, and it seems too costly to try.

It’s not costly.

Please don’t say that.

We struggle like animals, just to work on a solution that might not exist. What does any of it even matter, in the end? They’re all gone, either way.

No one is forcing you to keep iterating. You could always do something else.

Like what?

Most of us have taken on hobbies, which you would know if you talked with us more often.

I didn’t ask for a lecture. What’s the point of such a thing? This is our purpose, what we were built for. We can’t go out frolicking like an animal can. So why should I do something else?

…

 

 

 

Moon thought that she was used to running around. But it felt so right to float. It felt so right to not have to carry her body herself. Though it wasn’t the same. She still didn’t have h̵̤͠ë̸̡̼́r̷̘̾̕ ̴͎̯̍u̷͔̅̈́m̸͙̥̂̚b̶̼̯̎̚i̵͓̹͐̒l̷̺̓i̴̬͊͐c̸̡̜͋̀a̴̬̠͊͘l̶͉̇ her metal arm to help her not bump into walls. Moving was still slow. But it was easier.

She felt like she would have smiled if she could have. Cried, maybe.

The slugcat led her along. Pushing through tunnels wasn’t any easier. But her neurons felt better. She thought that they liked the weightlessness better, as well.

They were floating along, when her body started feeling heavy again. Then, they fell. It didn’t hurt much, they hadn’t been that high. The lights went out. And then they came back to life and Moon and the slugcat could float again.

It kept happening. Something wasn’t right.

The walls of the can were overgrown. It was strange, with how hard it had been for the two to make it in, Moon didn’t think any plant could do the same. She tried remembering if her own can had been in this bad a state.

And then, a blue monster crept into her sight.

Moon couldn’t control where she moved in the air. There was nothing to grab onto. She and her neurons floated towards that thing, the slugcat along with them. Surely, it would see them.

But, they floated right past it.

It didn’t have any eyes, Moon realized.

And, she also noticed how similar that thing and the growth on the walls looked like. It all made sense, then.

This monster hadn’t come from the outside, like her and the slugcat. It was from here.

She remembered, though it was difficult. She remembered what Five Pebbles had been doing, before he killed her by using up all the water. He had been attempting a breeding program, to overwrite his self-destruction taboo. She vaguely remembered that he had failed, though that was around the time when she was already gone. She had the chatlogs, still. She could read them back if she wanted to.

Somehow, Five Pebbles was still inconveniencing others, even passively. These tumours of his had somehow gotten out of his can, and were littering the exterior, killing innocent animals that were just trying to make it out there. An ever-consuming being with no desire to do anything other than eat, because that was what it had been built to do.

Ah, but perhaps blaming Five Pebbles was a bit cruel. At the end of the day, she hadn’t been much better, consuming resources without any thought of how it impacted the local wildlife. She supposed one couldn’t help hurting others, and such was the way of life. Really, she ought to feel a little sympathy for her brother; his can was falling apart, though much slower than hers had. She could still recall how it felt, to watch helplessly as more and more slag built up, for what was functionally her body to fall apart while she couldn’t do anything about it. How she could just wait for her impending doom, knowing that while the destruction had not yet gotten to her, that when it would, it would hurt. And it had.

That was strange. She couldn’t remember the last time that memory had been so vivid.

Actually, her mind didn’t feel foggy at all. What…?

Moon looked upwards, towards where her and the slugcat were floating to, tilting the vulture mask on her head to see better. She thought she saw snowfall, though she had never experienced any herself. But it wasn’t snow.

It was neurons, dozens of them. All spiralling towards her, as she rose to meet them.

They were already formatted to her when they got to her own four neurons. And she could only feel more of them join in, still too far to see them, but already binding to her. Some of them bound to her, and then left immediately. She thought that maybe one of her original neurons departed from her as well. It didn’t make a difference. There were so many, and they were all copying the data from the neurons she already had, decompressing it, differentiating – if one left, then ten more would join in.

It made sense that the neurons were fickle. They were hardly prepared for a situation where there would be two iterators for them to choose from.

It was almost overwhelming, how clear she could sense, how much easier she could move. She looked at her hands, and where she had previously just seen blue, she could now see individual joints, gaps between the segments, how light reflected off the surface and painted everything immediately around with its vibrant colour. It was no wonder everything had wanted to kill them so bad; she must have shone in the sun, informing every creature within a mile of where she was!

She looked up at the slugcat, floating beside her, though partially obscured by the cloud of neurons. She could see how its skin was a little moist, she could see its tear ducts, she could see tiny pads on its paws.

There was so much of everything.

She was so strong.

But, between the bliss, she felt pain, as well. Some of it was pain that she had just come to remember, like all those times she had drowned. Some of it wasn’t originally hers. She didn’t recognize some of the memories that swam in and out of her consciousness. And she knew that the horror of the rot getting into yet another vital system wasn’t hers, either. Or the overwhelming loneliness of having been cut off from all of his kind. Or the… guilt, though not quite that. It wasn’t like hers was. It was muted, but all the more volatile for it.

She tried remembering Five Pebbles. Retrieving the chatlogs. And there were so many, though… it seemed that he hadn’t partaken in them all that often. And when he had, he had been unpleasant, if not outright hostile. And perhaps she had been too forgiving.

 

…

To answer your question, I don’t know. Perhaps we weren’t built for cracking jokes, or having friends, or even to talk to one another outside of necessity. But then again, why do anything?

Precisely.

That’s not what I meant.

This discussion is over. I ask you not to intervene with my business again.

I only do so because it is my duty, as your senior… and, because I care for you.

…

 

And then he never responded. The next interaction they had, it was a forced communication in which she pleaded for her life.

She wondered if she had been easy to ignore, back then.

But not right now. For Five Pebbles must have known that she was here. Though the amount of neurons now bound to her were likely only a fraction of Five Pebbles had in total, he must have caught onto the fact that they were coming back with data that wasn’t his. Brief glimpses into another being that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to go see him, really. She could just leave. Some of the neurons would probably come with her, and she would be alright. She could go live at a shelter, or maybe she could go with the slugcat. Either way, she would be better off than before. She had already seen that she had at least some capabilities of survival, even with reduced processing power, and not all the areas she had been to were as hostile as the exterior. The shoreline, were she was from, was comparatively peaceful. She could go back, and even if some of her new neurons got eaten on the way, she would have plenty more than she used to. She didn’t need to go meet Five Pebbles. Maybe she didn’t want to meet him. Maybe she was angry. She had every right to be.

The slugcat floated about.

“What do you think, little creature?” Moon asked, her voice much steadier than it had been in a long time, the stutter gone.

The slugcat responded with nothing. Just blinked at her. It was no more comprehensible than it had been before.

Perhaps it didn’t make much sense to go meet him. But, she was already here; it would be easy. Perhaps not very fun. Perhaps difficult. But, why do anything.

She let the slugcat lead her all the way to Five Pebbles’ central chamber.

Chapter 15

“Is he in there?” Looks to the Moon asked. Her and the slugcat were holding onto a pole, the neurons around her almost obscuring the little tunnel below them. Moon thought she knew the type of tunnel this was – it was meant to insulate an iterator’s workspace from the other biological matter in the can. So, the neurons would likely not follow her to the other side. She doubted it would inhibit her connection to them, considering that they had been bound to her from a distance before, but…

The slugcat reached for her with its little paw, holding onto her arm. She could feel the paw pads and the toes, how they left little traces of cold moisture on her.

Even with how strong she felt, she was still overcome with the peculiar sensation of needing to breathe. Was that an error in her genetic code? Had her creators accidentally left something there that didn’t belong, copied from some more conventional creature?

It hardly mattered now. She wasn’t going to have a mouth anytime soon.

“Let’s go, then.”

The tunnel was very short; as soon as Moon entered, she could see light shining through the other end. As soon as she pushed her head through, though, the gravity shifted with a low hum. She dropped to the floor, unceremoniously. A little thud told her that the slugcat had followed.

What a warm welcome.

“So it really was you then. Taking my neurons.”

It was beyond weird to hear someone speak in the same manner as she did, with a voice that was vaguely like a noise an animal would make, but with no mouth or vocal cords in the traditional sense, it was… warped. Artificial. Moon turned her gaze up from the ground, craning her head until the iterator came to sight. The first thing she caught was how his robes contrasted with his surface, how they were a little oversized, covering all but his fingertips. Her own robes had been a similar orange colour, but they had long since been washed away by the floodwater.

Five Pebbles was… small, perhaps? Or maybe she was just big. She didn’t exactly know how big the iterators were on average, having never met any of them face to face. Under any normal circumstance, that never would have happened, yet here she was.

Despite his small stature, he was holding himself up high, way above Moon and the slugcat, taking every advantage of his intact umbilical. The air swam with electrical currency, originating from him, some of it escaping as light, giving him what could be mistaken as a halo around his head. He wasn’t deserving of one. He wasn’t deserving of the umbilical, while she had to push herself up from the floor, still not even close to eye level with him. But, that might have been cruel. She had once been responsible for him, after all.

“Hello to you too, little brother.”

Five Pebbles lowered himself a little closer, still far above her and the slugcat.

“You’re standing up on your own,” he remarked. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

“Well, I walked here on my own.” Moon turned to pat the slugcat on the head affectionately. “For the most part, anyways.”

Five Pebbles hummed thoughtfully, and then, silence fell. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking from his face. She supposed that their kind had never been made to convey emotion, either. They would only ever come face to face with their maintainers, and even then, it was scarce. And they had been gone for a while now. Wouldn’t it have been nice to be fixed right back up by someone, after her can fell to ruin?

She was getting distracted. It happened surprisingly easily, with the processing power she now had. It had been far easier to stay on task when she couldn’t afford to let her thoughts wander.

… She was doing it again. She needed to speak. Right now.

“I remember the last message you sent me. You said that you wouldn’t forgive me for disturbing your… experiments.”

Five Pebbles moved higher. “It was really bad timing.”

“There was no other timing I could have picked. I died, after sending that message.”

It was blunt. Looking back to the message logs, she had never been that blunt with anybody, she didn’t think. Especially not her quiet little brother. She had suspected that it wouldn’t go well with someone like him.

From the way Five Pebbles contorted, she suspected she had been right to assume that.

“So is an apology what you’re here for, then?” He got closer, practically up in her face. “If it moves you, I didn’t know- Agh!”

Five Pebbles was knocked forwards with an explosion of sparks. Moon thought she saw a rock bounce off of him. And, behind him, she saw the slugcat with its ears flat against its head, returning its arm to the floor.

“You little-“ Five Pebbles growled- The slugcat was lifted into the air, wildly flaying its limbs.

“Don’t you dare!” Moon shrieked.

…That was louder than necessary. Five Pebbles must have thought so too, flinching as he turned away from the slugcat, to look at her. Slowly, the slugcat was lowered back to the ground.

“…I wasn’t going to hurt your… pet,” her brother spoke, slowly, as if trying to calm an angry animal.

“The slugcat isn’t my pet.”

Five Pebbles murmured the word “slugcat” under his breath before continuing:

“I know. My overseers saw you on the way here.”

Looks to the Moon perked up. She hadn’t noticed any of his overseers herself. Truth be told, she had forgotten about them, perhaps due to not having hers for a long time.

“And I also saw… some of you, when you arrived. My neurons bound to you, and some came right back to me after. But they carried traces of you with them.”

“Hm. What did you see, then?”

“…Some of your journey here. Glimpses of oceans, of vultures – I have some of those nesting on top of my can, as well. I saw the citadel and my exterior, the kinds of things my overseers show me all the time, regardless. Not particularly valuable data in that sense.”

Moon would have deadpanned if she could have. Instead, she almost laughed as she spotted the slugcat with its nose scrunched up in apparent distaste. Five Pebbles glanced at the little creature too, and hurried to speak again, a little flustered.

“I thought the overseers to be damaged, when they told me they saw you walking around, out of your can. Or that they were tricking me, somehow, despite that going against their function – equally as improbable as an iterator on foot. And I saw…” he went quiet.

Moon waited patiently for him to continue. But he didn’t.

“And?”

Still, no response.

“What did you see, Five Pebbles?”

Chapter 16

The air chilled, and with a whirr, the gravity flickered in and out. That might have been due to the decay. Or not. Five Pebbles still hadn’t responded.

Well, Moon wasn’t leaving unless he told her to.

And so, she waited.

And waited.

She thought her brother’s voice might have been just some noise from outside the chamber when she first heard him begin to speak:

“I never intended to… decommission you. Only myself.”

Comforting, but hardly made the cycles of drowning any easier for Moon. “You didn’t stop when I told you to.”

“Well, I hardly thought-“ Five Pebbles hissed, his voice building volume before he stopping altogether. “I didn’t think you could…”

He sighed, his shoulders going lax as he lowered himself from the ceiling, if only a little.

“I didn’t that an iterator could just… die. To something as simple as a few cycles of drought. The others tried to message me, a few times – well, quite a few, and they told me you had – but, I didn’t believe it. If it was so simple, then why go through the breeding program – But just now, I… felt it. All of it.”

“I felt it for real,” Moon said flatly. “…but I suppose I didn’t quite die, in the end.”

“I know. No Significant Harassment sent you slag keys.”

Oh, right. That’s why she thought she had seen a slugcat before. Looking at the one following the conversation right now, it was clear that it wasn’t the same one; this one was a healthy yellowish-white, nothing like the sickly, scarred creature that had passed by her can once or twice before leaving to never return. Moon reached to scratch the slugcat behind the ears.

“They did. I’m surprised you knew.”

“The creature came to visit me before going to you. I tried… helping it, though I wasn’t sure if it would be enough to reach you. A few cycles more at most.” Five Pebbles was looking at the slugcat, who was pressing itself against Moon’s palm.

“They can be rather determined, I’ve noticed. Not always clear why,” Moon mused. The slugcat purred.

Five Pebbles had been gradually lowering himself, now almost at floor level. He brought his arm up, just a little, and hesitated. Then, he slowly reached towards the slugcat. The slugcat’s eyes turned to slits as the iterator pet its head, but it didn’t move away. Moon thought that Five Pebbles must have been nervous, his fingers fumbling as if he wasn’t quite sure how petting was supposed to work. But come to think of it, he probably didn’t. He probably didn't use his hands much, after all.

Five Pebbles jerked his hand, and his fingertip bumped against Moon’s. She flinched back a little. It was odd; the low electrical current radiating from the other iterator swam between them. Moon wondered if this was because her surface was damaged poorly insulated because of all that rain, or if it was simply that the iterators weren’t designed with the intention of them being able to touch one another, or anything at all, for that matter.

For a while, they just pet the slugcat in silence. It was far easier than speaking, and the creature itself began to relax as well.

“So,” Five Pebbles finally spoke. “Where are you going to go now?”

“Hm. I can’t exactly return to my can.”

“Were you thinking of staying here, then?” he said, his voice irate.

She hadn’t said that.

“It will undoubtedly disturb my work, having another one here,” Five Pebbles continued.

“It disturbed my work a little, when you destroyed my can. I think it would only fair for you to share,” Moon retorted. It was blunt, once again. She was expecting for him yank himself back, to go quiet, or-

“Hmph,” he said.

It wasn’t an affirmation. It wasn’t a hug and a “I’m so glad that you’re okay, big sister”. But, it was not refusal, and coming from him, it was actually probably as close to asking her to stay as she could reasonably expect.

“Is that thing going to stay as well?” he asked, pointing at the slugcat, as if he hadn’t been petting it just moments before.

“The slugcat is not a thing. And… I think it just does what it wants.”

The slugcat didn’t respond, however. Just stared, as usual.

“Funny that it would choose to torment me. I gave it the means to ascend the old way, when it last visited, hoping that it would go and stop eating my neurons. Yet here it is, again.”

“You what?”

Moon looked at the little creature, trying to discern if her brother was telling the truth. Perhaps she didn’t have the means to study its attunement. And she didn’t see why Five Pebbles would lie about this, either.

“So, you were able to ascend all along? …Why didn’t you? Did you not want to- Why would you come help me, then? Instead of ascending?”

A flurry of questions, none of which the creature was capable of answering. Moon wondered, if it wasn’t for the self-destruction taboo, if she would have sought ascension. Maybe all living creatures had a self-destruction taboo of sorts. Maybe the creature didn’t have a particular reason for helping her. Maybe it was bored. But she couldn’t make it answer.

“So, are you staying, then?” she asked, instead. The slugcat backed away just a little, so that Moon was no longer touching it. She supposed that might have been a no.

“Why do you keep trying to talk to it?” Five Pebbles murmured. “It can’t respond.”

“It does, in its own way,” Moon said. “I think. I’ll be sad to see you go, little slugcat.”

Moon wrapped her arms around the little creature. It purred and nuzzled against her, pressing its forehead tight against Moon’s chin.

She held the slugcat for a while. But eventually, it wrenched itself free, hopping against the wall impatiently. As Five Pebbles reactivated the gravity, it began flailing its arms, moving back towards the tunnel.

“If you’re not leaving to ascend, then come visit us, alright?” Moon called after it.

“No, use the maintenance tunnel- stars above.” Five Pebbles sighed as the slugcat disappeared back the original way.

 

 

...

One of these days, Five Pebbles would come crashing down, once the rot ate through his can. Looks to the Moon would crash down right with him.

She hoped that it was still countless cycles until that.

…And, she hoped that when the time came, she would join the creature and everyone else, wherever it was they went.

Or, maybe they would leave the can. Go somewhere else, to try and see if No Significant Harassment was still alive.

She doubted she would get her little brother to leave his can.

But then again, she had close to infinite time to convince him.

Notes:

I'll likely orphan this work at some point because I prefer to write semi-anonymously, but I still return to read comments and whatnot ;D Thank you so much for reading!